When I Said Forever, I Meant It
by Atreyl
Summary: We were both nine, and all you wanted was someone to lean on, and all I wanted was a purpose in life. "I won't. I'll stay with you forever, I promise." We couldn't have possibly foreseen how that little promise would affect our lives.


**When I Said Forever, I Meant It**

Matt, do you remember when we first met?

You were the little kid who always sat in the corner playing your video games, plastic goggles covering those emerald eyes I would later deem as beautiful. Resilient, you wouldn't let out a sound as the older kids gave you beatings.

I remember seeing you laying in the middle of the Playroom; everyone else had walked out of the room, not wanting to get roped in with trouble. I recall just sitting there, criss-crossed, beside your curled up form, listening to the quiet sniffles. I had felt sorry for you. Imprinted in my brain is the moment I drew you up in my nine-year-old arms, a protective embrace. You were surprised, I knew it, but if you didn't move away and instead cried against my black cotton shirt.

Clear as day, I remember hearing you whisper, "Don't leave me."

We were both nine, and all you wanted was someone to lean on, and all I wanted was a purpose in life. "I won't. I'll stay with you forever, I promise."

We were innocent at that time, naïve. We couldn't have possibly foreseen the future, and how that promise would affect our lives. The trouble I would go through to keep it, the sacrifices I had to make, just to make sure you were safe; it was all unexpected, but then again, it could have probably been predicted.

I was fourteen, three weeks shy of my fifteenth birthday when L died. I can still see your wide, green eyes, uncovered, staring at me, silently pleading not to leave you, to stay, to keep my promise. But, Matty, I swear, I did it to protect you. I had figured that Kira would soon find out about Wammy's, so I left to avenge L, and at the same time, to kill Kira so he couldn't get to the orphanage, to you.

I was fourteen, three weeks shy of my fifteenth birthday when I got my first kiss. I can still feel your warm lips pressed against mine, and although my eyes were closed, I could picture your eyes wide with surprise.

It took me every ounce of self-control not to look at you as I walked through the gates. It was hard to control myself from going back to our room, throw my arms around you, and tell you it was a joke, and we could both laugh it off.

I had turned sixteen when I crossed paths with you again. It was a rainy day; unlike the other ambitious teenagers out there, I was walking down the sidewalk to my hellhole of an apartment, occasionally looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was following. Two blocks from my place, you bumped into me. I can still hear you murmur an apology as you sidestepped to let me walk on.

I'd recognize those silly goggles anywhere.

Within seconds, I had fisted your striped shirt and pulled you in for a kiss, and while other teenagers were celebrating their sweet sixteen, I was kissing you, Matt, under the rain, and I couldn't care less whether anyone saw us or not.

I told you I would keep my promise.

When I pulled away, I took you with me to my apartment, and you didn't seem to mind how crummy it was. You lived with me for the next two years as we worked on the Kira investigation together. A string of unfortunate events occurred throughout those two years, the main highlight being me having to blow up my hideout. I can still smell the burning ruins, still taste the water running down my throat as you hurried to rehydrate me after you rescued me. I earned a scar from the incident, and I often complained about how much people seemed to stare, but you'd laugh and cup my face and tell me I was still beautiful.

I'm now eighteen, turned so one month and thirteen days ago. The date is January twenty-sixth, marked officially my Death Day by me. We're in our driveway, you in your car, me on my motorcycle, in front of our apartment. You're still wearing those goggles, though now they're resting on top of your head.

"We don't have to do this, Mello," you whisper. "We could just walk away now, leave this to Near, and forget it all."

But I'm not changing my mind, and you know it. When I set my mind to something, I like to follow it through until it ends. This is no exception.

"It's time," I say, glancing at the clock inside your car.

"Mello--" Your voice cracks.

"I love you, Matt." I kiss you, hopefully not for the last time, on the lips.

"I-I do too, Mel," you say shakily against my lips.

I give you my best trying smile, kick-starting my motorcycle. It roars to life, and I glance one more time at you, memorizing that angel's face.

Bright green eyes, shining with tears, though you're smiling as well. Red hair unkempt as always. Red and black striped shirt, that furry vest on top of it.

Then I've sped off, towards my death, no doubt.

As the city flies by, I silently promise you that we'll find our way back to each other again, even after this. If I die and you'll live on, I'll find my way back to you, even if it means having to dig myself up from the depths of Hell.

Because when I said forever, I meant it.


End file.
